


Do You Still Want Me to Touch You?

by mottsforthots



Series: Random Keanu Fics [1]
Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Club Sex, Consensual Sex, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fast Sex, Fucked by a gun, Gun Kink, Inanimate Object, John Wick - Freeform, Kinky, Object Penetration, POV Second Person, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Slight Bondage, Slow Build, Teasing, gun - Freeform, relationship, some spanking, somewhat hate sex?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 19:53:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19341472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mottsforthots/pseuds/mottsforthots
Summary: After an argument over the lack of intimacy you and John have had recently due to work arrises, you decide to go out and get attention from someone else without him. When John eventually shows up at the club, it's not to drag you home but more to show you how much attention he can really give. And the attention might come in the form of an empty gun.





	Do You Still Want Me to Touch You?

**Author's Note:**

> Got inspired by another work covering this topic and decided to write my own spin on the idea. Hope you enjoy! xx  
> Original idea: @scottielang

You're sitting on the couch, emotions tottering on frustration, worry, and sadness. Mostly frustration. John always comes back at the end of the day after all. You drop your chin into the palm of your hand and stare at the clock on the wall as the seconds hand slowly ticks forward. It's almost 11 pm and while that not might be late for some people, it's late for John.

He's usually back by 9. 

He told you it was going to be quick job tonight and he'd be back early. That's why you'd made a nice dinner which is now sitting on the kitchen table probably freezing cold by now. This was ridiculous. You understand that the assassin business isn't exactly something you can take time off of or call in sick or even quit, but he's been gone more often recently.

He'd promised you it was going to go back to the way it used to, one job a day and back before nightfall. It was turning more into two to three jobs a day and slinking into bed too tired to wash off the blood that stained his hair and face. That meant doing laundry almost daily.

You want your John back. The one who came home in time for dinner and sometimes felt in the mood for sex afterwards. Those were nice days. You miss those days. You can't remember the last time he touched you intimately, let alone the last time he actually paid you decent attention without the conversation steering towards, "I'm tired. Can we please talk about this later?"

Shaking your head, you stand up and walk towards your shared room with the idea to go out and have some fun. You might call your girl friends, you might not. It's not like he'd notice anyway, right? He'd probably just slump into bed thinking you're in the bathroom and fall asleep none the wiser. 

You shimmy on some black jeans and a plunging flow-y top made of rose colored satin. The heels are next and you're in the middle of clasping the last heel around your ankle when the front door opens. The tapping of his dress shoes sounds and the door closes after they still. He calls your name questionably and you walk out of the room after finishing the heel.

John looks you up and down with quizzical eyes and you do the same to him. The slicked back hair he left with is disheveled and he's missing his blazer. The white button up he has on underneath is soaked red in various places. "You hurt?" You ask, trying to sound as uninterested as possible when you know you're always worried he'll turn up with a major injury. "No. What are you up to?" He asks in that deep voice that makes your insides squirm- in a good way.

"I'm going out." You state, snatching your wallet before you turn to face him. He's a few steps away, staring at you with furrowed brows. "Out." He reverberates. You nod and flounce your hair over your shoulder, starting to head for the door. 

His hand catches your arm and stops you. It's not enough to hurt, he'd never hurt you, just enough to pause you in your tracks. "It's 11." He expresses shortly. "You had no trouble staying out." You argue softly. "I was working." John asserts, eyeing you with a questionable gaze. You already know he's working in his head what your underlying motive is. 

"Well, I'm going out to the club." You tug your arm away but John follows. "Without me?" He asks in confusion. "I don't need you to protect me, John." You sigh, turning to face him once more as he stops in front of you and hesitantly reaches his rough hands out to touch your own arms. You cross them and he falters, dropping his hands slowly. "I know. But there will be other... people." 

You scoff lightly at that and look away. "Good. Maybe they'll give me some attention." John doesn't furrow his eyebrows in confusion this time, he lowers them in a sudden irritation. "I'm sorry?" He questions. You both know he's heard what you said, he's just making sure you actually suggested you might be a little disloyal tonight. "When are we going to go back to like it used to be? Hm?" You meet his eyes with an annoyed passion, "You promised me it would be back to one job a day and home for dinner again soon. When is that, John?"

His eyes search your face as if it has the answer, but he falls short. "I don't know." He answers, low and stern. You purse your lips and nod, looking in the direction of the door. "Right. Well, I'm tired of staying up all night waiting for you- hoping that maybe one night you'll come home early and actually touch me!" Your steady voice quickly increases to that of high pitched resentment and John's eyes soften.

You drop your eyes and bite your lip, holding back the tears slowly filling your eyes. John reaches out to touch your arm comfortingly but you shake your head. "Not like that, John. I'm going out. Dinner's on the table. You'll need to warm it up." You pull away from his touch once more and grab the door handle. 

His hand is quickly against the wood and it's stopping you from leaving. "Just let me go!" You shout unhappily, rattling the door knob. "I'll be faster tomorrow. I'll come home early for gods sake! You're really going to go grind on some moron just because I have a job that might end up with me coming home late? For god's sake, I kill people! It's not easy to get out of a job like that. It ends one of two ways, you know! Who knows if I'll even come back one night?"

He's gotten exasperated too and it's morphing into a scream fest you know neither of you will win. "Then fucking quit, John! Just say you've had enough! Leave!" You wail, pushing his chest even though he doesn't move an inch. "I can't fucking do that! They'll kill me, then you really won't have anyone to touch you!"

"Good! Maybe I want someone who will anyway!" You cry. "Fine, then go fuck some idiot. You already look like a whore, why not act the part?"

Your palm is across his face as soon as the last word falls from his mouth. John's whole head turns to the side and he leaves it that way for a moment. "I didn't mean that." He whispers, still looking away. "Well you said it, asshole." You hiss, easily opening the door this time and hurrying past him. He makes a weak grab for your arm but you're able to dodge it and speed for the elevator. John calls your name and tells you he's sorry, but you're already inside the elevator and the doors close a few seconds later.

You wipe your tears away quickly and take a few deep breaths. 

Maybe it's time to leave him. 

You know he won't hurt you. You'll be safe from the fate many others suffer when it comes to John, but even that comforting thought can't seem to tear your heart away from the fact you love the man more than anything. When the elevator doors open, you step out with the intention to forget that fact tonight. 

========

You're two shots and one drink in, working on your second, when some drunk Russian guy stumbles over. He's decent looking enough and not anyone to be worried about. John gave you the list and pictures of Russians to look out for, and this guy isn't on that list. Although you're not really sure because your memory is already barely processing tonight. 

He introduces himself but you can't hear what he's said, so you just smile and let him settle in behind you. He places his hands on your hips and you can feel his front already pressing hard against you. It turns you off immediately and your thoughts turn to John who's probably wallowing back at home, planning his apology. 

You take another sip from your drink and scan the crowd, mindlessly swaying with the guy who's pulling your ass so hard against his front, your butt is going numb. When he tugs you in the direction of a more secluded area of the club, you start to get a little nervous. John has warned you about this club before. Apparently he did a really nasty job here a few years ago involving the Russians and now your anxiety is running high as you begin to spot large body guards around the secluded room.

Lights flow easily into neon colors of the rainbow around you and it's quieter here, though you can still hear the pounding music easily behind you. There's steaming pools everywhere and private spaces to the left. Girls walk around with trays of liquor to men and women in the pools and bodyguards observe from the permitter. Drunk Russian guy abruptly drags you to a private room and shuts its glossy black door behind you.

The room is square in shape with a long black leather seat stretched across the back half of it and a black circular stage with a pole in front of it; for strippers, of course. Neon lights run across the back wall at the top, casting an iridescent glow on your skin. He takes your hand again and pulls you against him, beginning to dance with you a little too close. You giggle nervously and begin to look for a quick escape over his shoulder, but the black glossy walls block out everything. 

"You are very sexy." The guy tells you, trying to flirt awfully. "Uh, thanks." You flash him a wary smile but he doesn't seem to sense your lack of interest. When his lips starts kissing your neck, you quickly pull away. He gets a little angry at that and tugs you back, shoving his lips against yours. 

Using one of the moves John taught you for basic self defense, you grab his hand and twist it until unusual popping sounds and he gapes in pain with labored breathing. "You bitch!" He hisses, managing to escape your hold and slap you across the face. You drop your drink and fall back against the leather seat, cupping your red cheek.

He starts walking towards you menacingly, but his head suddenly... bursts before you, red drops of blood and brain matter spraying the wall behind you. His body wobbles then falls heavily to the floor, a thick puddle of blood oozing out around his head. Your eyes bug out of their head and you're about to scream bloody murder when the black door carefully creaks open and John slips in stealthily with angry eyes. 

He's staring deep into your eyes, making you whimper and close your mouth, then hooks his arms under the Russian guy's armpits and begins to drag him away. He returns after a minute and closes the door after him. "J-John! People are gonna see!" You cry, standing up from your seat but he has a hand around your arm and this time, it kind of hurts.

You eye it painfully and he gives you eyes that say 'sit down'. You swallow hard and slowly sit back down on the seat as he walks forward and squats in front of you. John reaches out and touches your cheek which is probably still red. "He hit you." John states with displeasure. You nod and look down to avoid his eyes.

"I'm sorry I went out without you. I was upset." You say softly. John tilts his head at that and looks over his shoulder at the dark blood spot on the floor. "Yeah..." He trails off, then looks back at you. There's an intensity there you aren't familiar with, but it gets you a little hot and bothered and you shift in your seat slightly. John catches everything though and rises to his feet, still staring down at you. 

He pushes his fingers into your hair, trailing his hand down your neck and shoulder. His fingers slip lower until they dip into the loose satin top you're wearing and cup your breast. He gives it a firm squeeze, still staring at you. "Do you still want me to touch you?" He asks through gritted teeth. You swallow hard, your mind dazed in the fact he's just killed someone and now his hand is groping your chest.

You just nod and John tilts his head a little, nodding slowly himself. You notice the gun is still in his hand and he points it away, aiming it to the floor before he fires all of the bullets into the black marble. You flinch a little, but the gun barely makes any sound and you realize he's put the long muffler on it.

When the gun begins to click blankly, he lowers it back to his side- the tip smoking lightly. Well, he's not going to kill you. That's when he lifts it again, turning it on it's side lamely, and leisurely holds it in front of your mouth. 

"Be a good girl and suck the gun." He states. His voice is low and controlling and you're pretty sure you've just creamed yourself at the suggestion. You've never done anything like this together, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said you weren't deeply turned on. His deep brown eyes are staring at you and you stare back, opening your mouth and leaning forward to take the gun into your lips.

John acknowledges your compliance and begins to work his hand on the breast he's still holding. The gun is solid and heavy in your mouth. You'd only held a gun once because John wanted you to know how to work it, if anything ever happened, but you'd forgotten how they had serious weight to them. It doesn't taste metallic like tin foil or spoons, but it's warm and smokey. 

The tips of his fingers work deep circles into your nipple, occasionally trapping and pinching it between the gap of his middle and ring finger and pulling up. You're just busy working the gun like you'd suck his cock. He's still staring at you, you can feel it, but your eyes are closed as you suck the muffler. 

There's no bend to it, so it's a bit awkward, but you take it deep into your throat and slowly pull off, doing it over and over again before you open your eyes and look up to meet his. He's still got his poker face on and you have to give it to him considering he's been in the business of looking emotionless for a very long time. He takes it from your mouth suddenly and sets it down on the stage behind him.

It's wet and shiny now and part of you wonders if he's going to make you suck it again later. John removes the hand from your shirt and quickly removes his blazer, his muscles rippling under the tight fabric. You wonder if you should start taking your clothes off too, but you're too unsure to do it. 

He works on his tie next, tugging it off his collar expertly before he grabs your hands and begins to wind the fabric around them. He makes quick work and your wrists already start to ache at how tight he's wound the tie. He reaches in the back of his belt and pulls out a small knife that makes your heart race quickly.

"John?" You question, getting nervous as he walks forward. He just gives you warning eyes and grabs your silky top, pushing the knife through the fabric like butter and opening it up directly down the middle. The air is cold against you chest and your nipples harden instantly. You're somewhat embarrassed, even though you've had sex so many times before. He takes the rest of your shirt off and you're left topless in front of him with your hands bound. 

"Up." He commands. You stand on wobbly feet and he loops his fingers into your jeans, swiftly pulling them down with one tug. You yelp and draw your knees together as he removes your heels and pulls the jeans off of your legs. All that you're left in is your lacy panties and you feel extremely naked next to him.

He's still in a button up, dress pants, and dress shoes after all. "Do you still want me to touch you?" John asks again, his voice grave and deep. "God, yes." You whine softly, nodding. "Then be a good girl and maybe I'll fuck you myself." Your eyebrows crinkle at what he says and when he picks up the gun again, your knees go weak.

He's going to fuck you with his gun. 

You fall back on the leather seat and he walks forward again, eyeing the gun. "You know what to do." He tells you, meeting your eyes again. You take a second to admire him- his slicked back black hair, maintained facial hair, white button up, black pants... he looks stunning. "Come on." John urges, tapping the end of the gun in between your knees. 

You swallow hard and slowly spread your legs, your arms tied behind you and your naked chest on full display. The knife is in the other hand again and he bends down so his face is right between your legs, staring at the probably soaking wet fabric of your panties. He glances back up at you, then flicks the sharp knife under the underwear and with a swift flick of his wrist, the fabric tears easily and goes loose.

He drops the knife to the floor and sets the gun to the side, reaching out with both hands to tug down the ruined fabric. You bite your lip and look up at the ceiling as John pulls the fabric out from under you and tosses it to the side. His rough hands slide up your legs, glide in between your soft thighs, then stop just an inch short of where you really want him to touch you. 

His right thumb is the first thing to make contact, sliding between your wet folds and moving to your clit. You let out a shutter of a breath and close your eyes as he starts to rub deep circles into you, his left hand picking up the gun. You know because of the soft clatter it gives from being hoisted into the air. "Are you going to be good?" John asks you lowly. "Yes." You say quickly, starting to pant a little as he keeps an even, circular pace on your clit.

He nods and places the end of the muffler against your entrance, teasing you a little as he trails it over your wet hole a little. "God, John, just-" You're cut off when he suddenly sinks it into you. You moan loudly and toss your head back as it continues to go inside of you. The metal is still warm and wet from your mouth, but you're sure your slicked up insides are helping it glide easily inside of you.

When all of the muffler and some of the gun is inside of you, he begins to move his thumb on your clit again and pull the gun out slowly. "Fuck, John!" You whimper, dropping your head to meet his eyes which have grown a newfound intensity. He moves the gun faster inside of you and you drop your tied together hands to his hair, tangling your fingers into the gelled strands. 

John's mouth is suddenly on your clit instead of his thumb, sucking it in between his teeth then giving it a thick lick upwards with his tongue. You quiver below him and moan his name, dragging it out in a high pitched tone. The gun is going faster in you once more and the very edge of the muffler scrapes a soft soft which makes your back arch almost completely off the seat.

"That! Do that again!" You cry, wrenching your eyes closed. John does whatever he's just done and you bring your legs up, slapping your knees together as his tongue works devilishly on your clit, flicking and nipping it. There's a warmth spreading through your lower abdomen and you know you're about to reach your climax. "Fuck... John..." You trail through pants, not even sure yourself if you've just said anything coherent.

John continues to work the gun into you, the muffler hitting that soft spot despite it being so rigid. It doesn't bend at all and you wonder if maybe that has anything to do with the quick orgasm. The gun hits the spot once more and it's enough to send you over the edge. Your back arches once again and your mouth goes wide as you cry out your assassin boyfriend's name and quiver around the metal. 

John pulls his mouth away from you and watches as a white creamy liquid seeps out of you around the edges. He carefully drags the gun out and puts it into his own mouth, sucking off all of your juices you've left on it. 

You watch with lazy eyes as he throws the gun to the side and rapidly starts to unbutton his shirt. "Can you go again?" He asks in that rough voice you love. You nod lazily and stare as he whips the belt out of its loops like that's his sole job. He's always been good at taking his belt off.

He unbuttons his dress pants and pushes them down along with his briefs, kicking off his shoes and socks with the piled up fabric around his ankles. His fingers search in the pocket of his pants and he pulls a gold foil package out, tearing it between his teeth to retrieve a condom. John is throbbing hard and he gives himself a few quick strokes before approaching you once more, tugging the condom on as he does so. When it's completely rolled on, he nods to you. "Stand up for me." You weakly do as he says and he grabs your wrists, undoing the tie. 

You wince a little as you get freedom, but it's short lived as he drags you to the stripper stage and bends you over it roughly. You're not complaining at all, you love when he's rough. He takes your wrists again and has you hold the pole while he ties the tie around your wrists and the pole, making sure you won't be able to tug them away.

You're bent over at a perfect 90 degrees and you watch as he walks around you until he's no longer in view and behind you. His fingers give a short rub over your clit, making you flinch and whine due to over stimulation. He slaps your clit softly, making you jolt away from the action. John's hands roam over your ass for a second before his palm smacks your right cheek roughly. You moan at that and push back against the hit.

He does it two more times, then grabs his length and presses the tip of it against you. Your breathing is still ragged and you look around anxiously, wondering when he's going to put it in. Finally, the first inch sinks into you and your eyes practically roll into the back of your head. "Oh, fuck, John..." You moan lowly. 

He pushes all of himself inside of you, gripping your hips to hold you in place as he does so. When all of his cock is inside of you, you vaguely notice the familiar ache that usually comes when he hits deep. His right hand finds your hair and his fingers wind into it, pulling it back so you're bent at an unpleasant angle. 

Your hands grip the pole as he pulls himself out of you to the tip, then slams back inside. You whimper at the thrust, but his pace is relentless and he gives you no time to adjust to the speed. He's shoving himself inside of you with all he's got and you're seeing stars three strokes in. Incoherent sounds are falling from your lips and you drop your head between your shoulders as his name and other vague words leave your mouth.

John's nails are digging into your skin and he lets go of your hair to slap your right ass cheek again. "Are you going to go out without me again?" He begins to question through a strained voice. "N-no!" You cry, pushing yourself against him shamelessly. "Do you like how I'm touching you now?" He continues, nailing your insides.

He cock grazes the same spot the gun did and you cry weakly at the stimulation. "Yes!" You manage to get out. "Do you want me to touch you like this more often?" Dear lord, he's pumping into you so hard your legs are going numb. All you can think of is the wonderful stretch he's giving you and the pleasure coursing through your veins. 

"Yes, please!" You beg. John slaps your ass again and leans forward, managing to untie the tie and pull your back flush against his chest. He's out of you within seconds and you moan in disappointment until he spins you around and sets you down on the stage facing him. 

His hands hold the undersides of your thighs and you lock your arms around his neck, pressing your forehead against his as he lines himself up with you once more then pushes inside. He swallows your moans with his mouth, roughly shoving his lips against yours. His lips are soft and warm but also controlling as he thrusts his tongue into your mouth and begins to move it against yours.

Everything feels so good and that burn in your stomach is building again. You didn't know if you could cum again, but now you're definitely sure. His cock continues to pound into you, every once in a while grazing your bundle of nerves. John moves his lips to your neck and sucks the soft flesh between his teeth here and there, leaving chaste kisses afterwards. You're sucking in air between your teeth, moaning his name, and whining when he gives a particularly hard thrust.

"John, I'm close!" You warn in his ear, your eyes closing again as you can feel the second orgasm blooming. John begins to thrust harder, giving long and deep strokes as he groans into your ear. You grip his back and dig your nails in as his own fingers bruise the undersides of your thighs. You faintly feel the scars on his back and the slightly raised lines of ink that spread over his skin, a strange sensation you've grown to love.

You cry, "John!" loudly and arch your back into his chest as he buries himself deep and stills inside of you. Your climax is hot and pulsating, sending rivers of pleasure through your veins as wetness begins to glide down your inner thighs.

His cock throbs inside of you and you giggle a little at the feeling before he slowly slides out. He pulls off the condom swiftly and ties the end, tossing it to the side before he's in between your legs again. John's hand grips the back of your neck and he pulls you in for a kiss- still rough but filled with passion. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours.

You know what you should say. 

"I'm sorry. I know work is... unpredictable. I shouldn't have acted this way to get your attention." You murmur. John just sighs, still trying to catch his breath. "You were right, though. I barely touch you anymore and I did promise you better days. I'll try to pull some strings and give you exactly what you want."

You smile at his words and give him a slow, sweet kiss full of meaning. When you pull away, he's staring at you with those warm brown eyes. "I just realized I'm not going to have a shirt to walk home in." You say playfully, looking at your cut up top. John looks over his shoulder at it and nods to himself. "Yeah..." 

You chuckle at his lack of words and slap his bare chest. "Alright. Let's figure out how to leave this place without getting stares. Hopefully you hid that body well enough, too."

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all liked this! Kinda kinky, huh? xx


End file.
